


Just One of the Guys

by my_proof_is_you



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, F/M, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_proof_is_you/pseuds/my_proof_is_you
Summary: You had grown up around the Winchester brothers. Their dad, John, had taken you in when you were just a pre-teen and taught you the ropes of hunting. You had always been a bit of a tomboy, and you liked that you could hold your own with the group of boys.After you split up, though, you grew up. You weren’t the lanky teenager you had been. You were a woman now. Maybe not the most girly of women—but a woman nonetheless.When you meet back up with the boys, it feels like nothing has changed. But things definitely have. Can you get the older Winchester to see you for what you really are, or will you always be just one of the guys?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***This fic will start out following the Supernatural timeline but will eventually do its own thing. Still Supernatural, but not specific episodes.

You - Then

“Bullshit,” Dean said.

“I can!” You yelled back, stubborn as ever.

You, Dean, and Sammy were out playing behind the motel John had set you up in. There was a big creek and a vast wooded area behind the run-down building, and the three of you were sick of being stuck inside.

“Then go ahead and do it,” the 15-year-old with piercing green eyes goaded you.

“Fine,” you said, stepping up to the edge of the creek. The two of you had been arguing about if you could jump the width of the creek to the other side without falling in. Ever since you had met Dean you and he had been competing.

“Do it or don’t, just stop yelling!” Sam said from where he sat leaning against a tree. He was reading a book, as usual. Sam was probably the most well-read 11-year-old you had ever met.

“Oh just go back to your book you nerd,” Dean taunted.

“You’re just jealous cause he’s smarter than you,” you sassed right back. You were 13 and always ready to put Dean in his place when you got the chance. He was the oldest, and he never let you and Sam forget it.

Dean always said that he was “in charge” when John was off on a hunt. At this point you and Sam would just roll your eyes at him, seeing as you were old enough to fend for yourselves.

“Okay, on three,” you said, readying yourself to jump. “One, two—“

“Three!” Dean yelled, pushing you into the creek. You fell into the shallow—but freezing—water and mud with a splash.

Dean was laughing on the grass, holding his stomach and wiping his eyes. Even Sam was chuckling a bit from behind his book.

You stood up, your clothes hanging heavily from your body. “Y-You are d-d-dead,” you chattered from the cold.

“Oh, I’m so scared,” he said when he finally stopped laughing. An evil smirk spread across your face as you got an idea.

You lunged at Dean, chasing him around the yard and trying to get him wet. Eventually your anger faded and the two of you were playing tag and laughing. Sam got up and joined, and you ran until your clothes were dry again.

  


You - Now

You closed your trunk with a loud thud.

You got in the car, ready for your trip to see your family. Not your blood relatives—they were all gone. But your family, nonetheless.

You had gotten a call from Dean Winchester. Turns out John had gone missing, and when they finally found him he died.

You had all split up a few years back. Sam wanted to go to Stanford, which didn’t go over well with John and Dean. You had been the only one who was supportive. Sam was smart—and he was wasting his potential hunting.

When Sam went to school you decided that you wanted to branch out on your own, too. John and Dean hadn’t minded too much. They knew you’d want to be on your own one day, as you were always pretty independent.

You told them you would keep in touch, and you had. You usually ended up talking to John—that is, until he went missing. You still talked to Sam a lot when he was in school, keeping up with how he was doing. Then he stopped answering your calls. You knew something had happened, but you weren’t sure what. You found out when Dean called that Sam had been pulled back into the life when his girlfriend was killed and they went looking for John.

You of course gave him hell for not calling you sooner. You were heartbroken over John’s death. Sure, he was a hard ass, but he was like a father to you.

You had spent the last few years taking odd jobs and hunting on the side. You never really found a place to settle or call home. You figured it was because you were so used to moving around when you lived with the boys that it was hard to settle. Really, though, you were pretty sure it was because _they_ were your home.

You were a little nervous about seeing the boys. You had grown up a lot in the last few years, and you didn’t know if things would be different when you saw them. You were still a tomboy at heart, but you had embraced being a woman more so than you had when you were with the Winchesters.

As you drove you listened to your favorite cassette: a mix of classic rock songs that Dean had made you before you left. You smiled as you listened to AC/DC and drove down the highway, feeling like you were heading home at last.


	2. Chapter 2

Now - Dean

Dean rolled over and blinked into the harsh sun hitting his face. 

“Rise and shine, Dean! Y/N will be here soon,” Sam said. He had opened the curtains in the guest room where Dean was sleeping at Bobby’s. 

Sam and Dean had been staying with Bobby since they had burned John’s body. Dean wasn’t really dealing with his death all that well—not that he’d ever tell Sammy that, who asked relentlessly if he was okay. They had called you after the fact, figuring you’d want to know John had died. You were pissed, of course, that they hadn’t called you sooner. It wasn’t that they had forgotten about you, it was just that it had all happened so fast. 

You insisted on meeting them, wanting to help find the son-of-a-bitch responsible for all this. Dean knew better than to tell you no. You were way too stubborn for that. 

Dean got out of bed and headed into the bathroom, thinking back on the day John had brought you home to them. 

Dean was 11, and he had been watching Sammy at the motel John had left them at while he went on a hunt. John came back, but not alone. Dean remembered the feeling of joy he had when he saw that John was back safe, followed by the confusion he felt when he saw the tiny figure next to him.

John brought you into the motel without a word. He gave Dean a meaningful look that he had come to know as “take care of Sammy.” Of course, this time it was directed at you.

Turned out that the hunt John had gone on was for your family. They were being haunted by a vengeful spirit. John had been able to save you—but he didn’t get to your parents in time. He had asked you if you had any family to go to, and when you didn’t, he brought you back with him.

Dean remembered that you were this shy little 9-year-old that barely spoke when John brought you home. You were scared. You had just found out that monsters were real, your parents were dead, and you were plopped right in the middle of a strange man’s motel. 

Eventually they got you to come out of your shell. John trained you up, of course, and soon you were just like the boys. You also messed around with them as if you were just another brother. 

Now, Dean was excited to see you again. Things had been a little weird between you when Sam had left for college. You didn’t see eye to eye about it, and it had put a strain on your friendship. You left on good terms, but Dean knew you didn’t stay in touch as much as you could have because of it.

“Man, do you even sleep?” Dean asked Sam, coming downstairs and into the kitchen for some coffee. 

“Yeah, I just don’t sleep in like your lazy ass,” he said, not looking up from his laptop. 

“What’re you even doing?” Dean asked.

“Research,” Sam responded shortly.

“Shocking,” Dean replied sarcastically. 

Right after Dean pulled on his shoes and socks there was a knock on the door. Sam got up quickly and answered it. 

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, wrapping you in a hug. Dean couldn’t even see you because Sam’s entire body blocked you out.

“Geez, Sammy, did you get even bigger?” You asked. Sam chuckled and pulled back. 

“I missed you,” he said. He was still standing in front of you, but Dean could hear the conversation.

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry about Jessica, Sam,” you said.

“Me, too,” he replied. 

“Um, don’t I get a hello?” Dean finally said. Your head poked around Sam’s body at the sound of Dean’s voice.

“Deany!” You yelled your long-time nickname and ran toward him, hugging him hard. 

“Hey there, Runt,” he replied, hugging you back. Dean had always called you Runt because even though you were older than Sam, you were always the smallest out of the three of you.

You pulled apart and Dean got a good look at you. You had definitely matured since he last saw you. Your hair was longer and shiny, your face had become more angular and you were...well, beautiful. You were still the same Y/N Dean had always known, though. You weren’t wearing any makeup or fancy clothes—just your normal jeans and a t-shirt you always wore. 

Dean was brought from his thoughts when you swiftly punched him in the stomach.

“Ow, what the hell?!” He yelped.

“You don’t call me to tell me John’s missing? Or that Sam’s girlfriend was killed? Or that you nearly died?!” You yelled.

“Hey, Sam didn’t call you, either!” Dean defended.

“Yeah, well, you’re the oldest! It’s  _ your  _ job!” You composed yourself after a second. “Okay, I’m good. Just needed to get that out.” You turned and sat down at the kitchen table, crossing your legs casually. “So what’ve you boys been up to?” You asked, your voice pleasant again.

“I’m gonna get whiplash,” Dean muttered under his breath. You shot him a glare before turning to listen to Sam.

“Well, obviously you know about Dad. Other than that we’ve just been hunting. We’re still trying to figure out where the Yellow-Eyed-Demon is,” he explained. 

“Right. Oh and by the way, don’t you think you’re gonna get away with not talking to me about quitting Stanford,” you said sternly. 

“I know, I know,” Sam said, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“And what about you? You dragged him back into this mess?” You asked Dean. 

“Yeah, I needed help,” Dean replied.

“You could have called  _ me  _ you idiot,” you said. Dean rolled his eyes and went to the fridge to grab three beers.

“A little early, isn’t it?” Sam asked. Dean shook his head and handed a beer to him and then to you.

“Nah, we’re celebrating. The gang’s back together!” Dean said. Though he was at war inside himself, he really was happy and relieved to have you back with them. It was just like old times, and he was going to enjoy it as much as he could.

“Cheers,” he said. The three of you clinked bottles and drank, sadness forgotten for the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

Now - You

“A little early for beers, isn’t it?” Bobby asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Nah, we’re celebrating,” you mocked. You stood up and hugged Bobby. “I missed you, old man,” you said. He squeezed you tight before pulling back to look at you. 

“Honey, you sure are gettin’ pretty,” he said. 

“You know, you say that every time I see you,” you said, returning to your spot at the table. “I’m starting to think you say that to all the girls.”

“With an ugly mug like this I need all the help I can get,” Bobby replied, gesturing to his face. You all laughed and Bobby got to work making breakfast for everyone. 

“So what else have you done?” You asked.

“Well we found this voicemail on one of Dad’s old phones. Woman named Ellen. Turns out she’s a hunter, and she owns a place called—“

“The Roadhouse,” you said as you cut Sam off. 

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked. 

“Well...before your dad brought me to you guys, he took me there.”

 

Then - You

You stood and watched as the man who saved you argued with some woman. You were in a bar, and there were a lot of strange people looking at you from their tables.

“Hi, I’m Jo.” A blonde girl who looked to be about your age walked up to you. 

“Y/N,” you replied quietly. 

“Hi, Y/N. Listen, they might be arguing for a while. You wanna go play or something?” She asked. 

You didn’t want to stand there and be watched anymore, so you agreed. Jo took you to the back of the bar where there was a little office. She had toys, but none like you’d ever seen. Rather than barbies and dolls, she had play guns and other weird things like salt shakers and butter knives.

“I heard what happened to your parents. I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thanks,” you replied automatically.

“My dad just died, too. I know it’s hard.” She said, looking at her shoes.

You smiled at her, glad she understood. “So what’re we playing?” You asked.

Her face lit up as she looked at you. “Hunters!”

 

—-

 

Now - You

“Turns out John asked Ellen if she could take me. She had just lost her husband, though, and it was too much.”

“So he brought you home to us,” Dean said. You nodded. 

“So anyway, I’ve known Ellen and Jo a long time.”

“Yeah, well, she has Ash working on our dad’s research about the demon,” Sam said.

“Good. Kid’s weirder than a football bat, but he’s a genius,” you said. You got up and put your breakfast plate in the sink. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean began with a chuckle. “Sammy tell you that we went on a hunt out there?” 

You looked at Sam, your brows furrowed as you tried to figure out why Dean was laughing. “No, what happened?”

“It uh, it was clowns,” Dean said before bursting out laughing. 

“Oh, poor Sammy,” you said with your own laughter, “still afraid of clowns.” You knew that Sam had been afraid of clowns for as long as you could remember.

“Oh yeah? At least I’m not afraid of snakes,” Sam replied.

“Snakes bite!” You defended.

“And apparently clowns kill!” He retorted. You huffed, defeated. 

“Yeah, he got me with that one too,” Dean said.

“Planes?” You asked.

Dean’s head hung. “Planes,” he said with a nod. 

“If you all are done joking around, we should really get back to work,” Bobby said. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things move pretty quickly in this chapter. Just wanna get the timeline up to where the rest of the story will be told. Enjoy!

You fell into your place in the makeshift family easily. Time went by, and with every challenge the three of you came back stronger. 

That is, until the showdown between Sam and Lucifer. 

 

_ Four Years Later _

 

Sam was dead. He was in hell with Lucifer, and there was no coming back from that. 

He had told you and Dean to live your lives, to get out of the hunting game. 

He had meant together. 

That didn’t happen. 

The pain of losing Sam was too much for the two of you. Seeing each other only reminded you both of the family you had lost. So, you parted ways again. 

Dean left to be with an ex-girlfriend, Lisa. Though it hurt (not that you’d admit it), you wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. So you let him go.

You spent the time by yourself and closed off from the world. You were tired of losing people--tired of _ feeling _ . So you didn’t. You became a hunting machine. 

For months you hunted alone, killing monster after monster. 

 

The day Sam called you, you told him you were glad he was okay. You told him that you were happy for him, and acted genuinely surprised when he told you all that had happened since he came back from hell and got his soul back. 

But really, you felt empty.

History had repeated itself. Dean was back in the game, and instead of telling you--instead of letting you know that the man you considered a  _ brother _ was back from the dead, he left you out. 

It hurt for the obvious reasons and for reasons you didn’t really understand. All you knew is that you were not ready to come back. You didn’t know if you ever would be.    
  


_ Three Years Later (Now) _

 

“Thanks for coming, Y/N,” Sam said as he pulled you into a hug.

You plastered on a fake smile, your nervousness hard to mask. You studied his face, which had filled out a lot since you’d last seen him. “You look...masculine,” you said with an awkward chuckle. 

Sam gave you his signature half-smile with a small laugh. “Well it’s been a few years. Gotta grow up sometime, right?” 

You gave him a quick closed-lip smile. “So, this is the famous bunker, huh?” You had been given the tour and you had to admit that it was pretty amazing. 

“Yeah. We sort of inherited it,” he replied, scratching his head. 

You nodded. “Bobby would have loved it here,” you said quietly. The main reason you even agreed to meet up with the boys was because of Bobby’s death...and Sam’s pleas. You could only avoid him for so long. Every time you talked he insisted that you come see him. 

Since Sam came back from the cage the two of you had kept in contact. Sam kept you up to date on everything that was happening. He often would ask you to join back up with him and Dean, but you had always refused. You told him that it was because you were happy on your own, but the truth was that you were afraid. 

“He would have,” Sam said with a small smile. “You want a beer?” he asked, heading toward the kitchen. 

“Sure,” you replied. You wandered around the library, looking at the titles on the dusty old spines of the many volumes. 

“Well if it isn’t the runt,” you heard behind you. You froze, a mixture of feelings you couldn’t identify running through you.

You turned, and your breath caught in your throat. 

If it was possible, Dean was more attractive than you ever remember him being. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his green eyes shone bright as ever. 

Attractive or not, though, you were still pissed.

“Hi Dean,” you said quietly. 

“ _ Hi Dean,”  _ he mocked. “That’s all I get?” he asked jokingly. He held out his arms for a hug. 

You walked to his arms and let him embrace you. You hated how good it felt. His classic smell of leather and whiskey filled your nose and it felt like home. 

Snapping yourself out of it, you pulled away. Dean held on to your shoulders, though, looking at you.

“You look...great, Y/N,” he said, looking you up and down. 

“Thanks,” you said, absentmindedly scratching your arm. You knew that as you got older you really grew into your looks.  _ Apparently so did he. _

“Is everything okay?” he asked. You had been silent for a while. Every stubborn bone in your body told you to give him a swift punch to the gut, but you restrained yourself. Now was not the time.

“I’m fine,” you said a little too pleasantly. Luckily, Sam returned with the beers and you took one gratefully.

“To being back together,” he said, holding his beer up. You clinked bottles with him, purposely ignoring Dean’s raised bottle and drinking your beer. 

Dean’s eyebrow cocked up, but he shrugged and drank his own. You knew you were being a little childish, but you couldn’t help it. That man knew how to make you feel like you weren’t important, so you didn’t really care how he felt at the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean

 

Things with you had been a little tense since you came back. Dean chalked it up to awkwardness after not seeing each other for a long time, but something told him you were pissed. 

Not that he blamed you.

He knew he had been a dick. He purposely shut you out when Sam went to Hell. It was just too hard to be around you. Being with Lisa--starting a new life--that had been easier. So it was what he did. 

When Sam came back there was the whole mess of retrieving his soul and...Dean just didn’t want to involve you in that. Sam was not himself, and Dean didn’t want you to be upset when you saw what Sam had become. So he waited, and he told himself that he would call you when it was over.

When that time came, though, Sam called you first. You had told Sam that you were happy, and that you were doing well on your own. Dean wasn’t about to mess that up for you. So he left you alone. He didn’t want to drag you into the messy life of the Winchesters again if you were happy. 

Months turned to years, though, and he knew that you were probably pissed that he never reached out to you.

Not that you had reached out to him. You were both too stubborn, and he knew that was half the problem.

Another thing he knew: you were beautiful. It seemed like you got more beautiful every time he saw you. 

It wasn’t just your looks--though they were killer. Your shiny y/h/c hair and enchanting y/e/c eyes were enough to make any man stutter.

But the air of grace around you...it was amazing. You were so lithe and confident in your own skin--something that you had grown into since he last saw you.

A few days after you arrived, Dean walked down the hall with all the bedrooms toward the kitchen. He stopped when he heard music coming from the room you were staying in. 

Your door was cracked, and he leaned against the wall outside, listening. You were playing your guitar--an instrument you had always brought with you everywhere for as long as Dean had known you. Your dad had taught you to play when you were young, and he knew it was something you did to remember him.

He heard the familiar song you played acoustically, your voice singing along quietly but strong.

 

_ Although I'm not making plans _

_ I hope that you understand _

_ There's a reason why _

_ Close your eyes _

_ No more broken hearts _

_ We're better off apart _

_ Let's give it a try _

_ Tell me, tell me, tell me lies _

_ Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies _

_ Tell me lies _

_ Oh no, no, you can’t disguise _

_ You can’t disguise _

_ Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies _

_ Tell me lies _

 

With that you strummed the last chord and set your guitar down and Dean watched as you got up and opened the door. 

There was no surprise on your face when you saw him standing there. It was more like disappointment. You brushed past him and walked down the hall, leaving him there alone.

The two of you had never been good at expressing your feelings. He knew you well enough to know, though, that the song you sang said enough.

_ Damn it. _

He knew he would have to talk to you about the last three years.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter. I hope you do, too! :)

Then - You

Dean Winchester had been your first kiss.

The summer you turned fifteen things became a little different. You were growing up, and John and the boys knew it. 

Having a daughter was not something John knew how to handle. All things considered, you were a pretty easy one for him to have. 

When you started dating, though, John was at a loss. 

“Girl, you’re going to send me to an early grave,” John said one night when you came back to the motel after eleven o’clock. 

You crossed your arms after closing the door behind you. “You didn’t have to wait up,” you said. 

“Yes, we did,” came Dean’s voice from the other corner of the small room. 

“Ugh, are you kidding me? For the love of all that is holy…” you said with an attitude. It was bad enough that your father-figure was about to grill you about where you were. Now Dean wanted in on it?

“Yeah, well, Dean’s the one who told me where you were. Out with a boy two years older than you, really?” John said, exasperated. 

You gave Dean a glare that said he would pay for that later. 

“It’s not a big deal, John. We were just hanging out,” you said, turning back to him. 

“Don’t forget that I was your age once. I know what ‘hanging out’ really means,” he replied. 

“Oh my God. This is ridiculous,” you said. Not only was it mortifying to be talking about this with John, but you knew that Dean was getting a kick out of this. “Nothing happened, okay? We just saw a movie.” It was the truth. The boy you had gone out with, Jake, was cute and all, but he was an idiot. After he tried to slide his hand from around your shoulder to down a little lower multiple times during the movie, you had decided that you would not be going out with him again.

John stood up and came over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I just want you to be careful, okay Y/N/N?”

You looked him in the eye as you spoke, something you knew he viewed as respectful. “I am, I promise.” 

John smiled and squeezed your shoulder before leaving the room. As soon as the door clicked shut you turned on your heel, staring daggers at Dean.

“Why? Why would you tell him?” you asked, stomping over to him.

Dean stood up, causing you to look up to meet his gaze. “Because that guy is a douche. You shouldn’t have been out with him anyway.” He brushed past you and opened the mini fridge, getting a soda before leaning against the counter to drink it. 

“What  _ that guy _ is is for me to decide. Besides, what do you care?!” you yelled.

“Shh, you’ll wake Sammy,” he said, putting a finger to his mouth. “And he’s too old for you to be hanging around with,” he finished calmly.

“You’re seventeen and I hang around with you!” you retorted, your voice barely quieter. 

“That’s different.”

You clenched your fists and growled before throwing yourself in one of the chairs around the small table. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going out with him again,” you said, defeated. 

“Why not?” Dean asked. You could see the repressed joy in his eyes.

“Because, as much as I hate to admit it, he was a jerk.”

\--

 

Then - Dean

“Because, as much as I hate to admit it, he was a jerk.”

Dean could tell you were upset. And while he was glad you weren’t going out with that moron Jake again, he wanted to know what happened. 

“What did he do?” Dean asked, malice in his voice. He had stood up straight from his spot leaning against the counter, almost as if he was ready to run out the door and beat Jake up if he needed to.

“Nothing,” you said, leaning back in the chair, your eyes on the ceiling. 

“Y/N,” Dean said, his voice softer. He set his soda down and walked over to you, kneeling beside your chair.

You tilted your head in Dean’s direction, and he could see that you were hurt. You heaved a sigh.

“He just tried to make a move I wasn’t ready for,” you said quietly.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Dean said, already seeing red.

“Dean, stop,” you said, placing a hand on Dean’s arm before he could get up. He calmed almost instantly and stayed where he was. “It’s not like it was hard for him to go further than I was ready for.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, confused.

You sighed again, your cheeks reddening the slightest bit. “I think he thought I was more experienced than I am,” you said.

“What, like he thought you sleep around?” Dean asked, now mad that Jake would think you were that kind of girl.

“No...just...ugh,” you said, sitting up. You bit your lip, looking at the ceiling to avoid eye contact. “I’ve never even been kissed, okay?”

Some part of Dean was extremely relieved to hear you say those words. He told himself it was because he was protective of you. 

He gave you a half smile and you shoved him.

“Don’t make fun of me!” you said. 

“I’m not! I’m just...surprised.”

You dropped your head into your hands. “Oh my God, I’m so lame,” you said, shaking your head. 

“Hey, no you’re not,” Dean said, pulling your hands away so you’d look at him. “Besides, would you really want your first kiss to be with an idiot like Jake Matthews?”

One side of your mouth lifted. “I guess not. But it has to be someone. What if no one ever wants to kiss me?” Your eyes sparkled with genuine worry, which Dean found adorable. 

“They will,” he replied. The thought of any of the guys you went to school with being your first kiss made Dean angry, though. They were all idiots, and you were too good for them. So, he made a decision.

Dean lifted a hand and brushed the loose strands of hair away from your face. Your eyes danced between his, questioning. He leaned in slowly, and you closed your eyes. 

He placed his lips on yours, giving you a tender--but intense--closed-lip kiss. When he pulled away, your eyes fluttered open. 

“There,” he said, dropping his hand, “now you don’t have to worry about your first kiss being with some loser you barely know.”

Before you could respond, he got up and went into the bathroom as if to get ready for bed. When he closed the door, he smiled to himself, and told himself that he did that for you while ignoring the fast beating of his own heart. 


	7. Chapter 7

Now - You

It hadn’t bothered you that Dean had spied on you playing your guitar and singing. You had done that for as long as you could remember. You used to play acoustic versions of classic rock songs on your guitar and you and Dean would sing along. 

You sucked at expressing how you were feeling, and you knew it. So you did what you always did: played music to make you feel better. 

Sure, Dean heard it--and sure, he knew you pretty well and probably got what your mood was from the song...but you didn’t care. He deserved to know you were mad at him, even if you couldn’t tell him with your words.

“Y/N, hang on a sec,” he said, jogging down the hall to catch up with you. 

You rolled your eyes but stopped, crossing your arms. “What?”

“What’s your problem?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

_ “What’s my problem?”  _ you mocked, scoffing at the question. You thought he would at least know why you were mad once he knew you were upset. 

“Yeah,” he said with a straight face. 

“You know what, Dean? It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re good,” you said, turning on your heel. Inside you were screaming at yourself for not just telling him that your feelings were hurt. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, though. 

You heard Dean sigh loudly behind you but kept walking into the library where you found Sam. 

“The two of you are still going at it huh?” He asked with an amused expression when he saw the look on your face. 

You grunted in response while you sat down at the table across from him. 

“You know, I have no idea how the two of you have been friends for as long as you have. You’re both so...similar.” 

“No we’re not!” You responded, offended. 

“Oh please, Y/N,” he said with an eye roll. “I’ve known Dean my whole life and you for most of it, too. I know you guys.”

“Sure,” you said sarcastically. Sam leaned forward, taking your hand in his. 

“You two may be two of the most hot headed and stubborn people I know,” he began, “but you’re also the best people I know.” His eyes turned a little sad. “So please, whatever is going on, try to make it right. If not for your friendship, then for me. You two are all I have.”

Your face softened. You couldn’t help it. Whenever Sam hit you with those puppy dog eyes (which he’d been doing as long as you’d known him) you couldn’t help but want to make your little brother happy. 

“Okay. But only for you, Sammy. Dean is an idiot.”

Sam chuckled. “We can agree on that.”

 

——

 

Then - Dean

 

“She is batshit crazy.”

Dean turned away from the door that had just been slammed in his face and strode over to the couch before plopping himself down. 

“Maybe understanding thirteen year old girls is just not your thing,” Sam replied, not looking up from his textbook he had spread out on the floor. 

“Oh, and it’s yours?” Dean asked sarcastically. 

Sam looked up as if thinking. “If I had to guess I’d say she’s...mad,” he said, nodding his head as if he had come to some scientific conclusion. 

“Thanks, Einstein, I got that,” Dean retorted. “But why?”

“Well obviously it was something you did.”

“Again, thank you to the peanut gallery.” Dean ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what he had done wrong. 

It was your birthday. Dean knew that it was pretty unlikely that John would remember, let alone get you something. So, he stepped up. 

Apparently that was a mistake. 

He had always seen you play that super old guitar that you had brought with you when John had saved you. It was always going out of tune, and it looked like it was ready to fall apart. 

So, he saved up some money. Well, hustled pool for money. Potato-potahto. 

He bought you a brand new guitar, tied a bow on it, and left it on the table for you to find after school. He took your old guitar and threw it out. 

_ I mean, how can that piece of crap compare? _ _   
_

“Okay, well, what was the last thing you did before she got mad?” Sam asked, bringing Dean out of his mind.

“I gave her a fricken new guitar!” Dean yelled. 

“Oh, that’s nice. She loves the one she has, though,” Sam replied. 

“That one sucked. I threw it out.”

“Oh my God. You are an idiot,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“Why?!” Dean asked.

“Her dad gave her that guitar. It’s the one he taught her to play on, and you threw it out!”

_ Crap. _

 

\-----

 

Then - You

 

You knew Dean was just trying to be nice. Maybe your reaction was irrational. 

But he threw it out. 

He threw out the  _ last  _ connection you had to your dad. 

You heard a light knock on the door and got up from your spot on the bed to answer. You had a few minutes to calm down, so you decided to let him in. 

You opened the door and immediately turned to sit on the bed. 

Dean came in and scratched his head, his eyes filled with regret.

“Listen, Y/N…” he began, looking at his shoes. You held up a hand and cut him off. 

“It’s not your fault. Your gift was nice. I’m sorry I yelled at you," you said softly.

He looked up at you, his face surprised. “Really?” He paused. “Sammy told me about the guitar…”

“You couldn’t have known. It was stupid for me to get so upset anyway,” you said. A tear ran down your cheek and you wiped it away quickly, embarrassed to look weak. 

“Hey,” he said, sitting next to you on the bed. “It’s okay to be upset. I would be, too.”

“Well, the new one is great,” you said, sniffling. “I really love it. Thanks, Dean.”

“I’m glad. But…” he said, getting up and going outside the room. He came back holding your old guitar.

“Oh my God, you got it back? I thought you threw it away!” you yelled, getting up to grab it. 

“Yeah, well, it was still in the dumpster outside the music store. It kinda smells, sorry,” he said with a half-smile.

“Dean, you should take the other one back. I know it probably wasn’t cheap and I  _ know _ you didn’t come by that money easily.”

“Nah, it’s a birthday present. Now you have two guitars,” he said, picking up the new guitar. “Maybe someday you can teach me to play.”

“Sure,” you said with a smile.

It would turn out to be one of your favorite birthday presents, ever.


	8. Chapter 8

Now - Dean

 

Dean knew the peace between you and him would only last for so long. You were acting like everything was okay, but he was pretty sure you were still upset about something.

Instead of worrying about it, though, he decided to throw himself into the work. After all, the two of you had been friends for twenty years.

_ Had it really been that long? _

Dean had screwed up so many times in those twenty years, but you hadn’t given up on him, and he wasn’t about to give up on you. It was more like he was putting you on the back burner.  _ Something he’d done many times as well,  _ he thought with a bit of shame.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he re-focused his eyes on the computer screen in front of him. Dean, Sam, and you had been searching for cases for the past few hours. Dean wasn’t sure what Sam had said to get you to stay and hunt with them again, but he decided not to ask.

“Hey, I think I got one,” you said, looking up from your laptop. Dean watched your eyes scan the article on the screen and noticed your signature little lines that always showed up between your eyebrows when you were concentrating.

“There are disappearances peppered all throughout northern-rural-Indiana,” you said.

“What does that have to do with us?” Sam asked.

“Well, I don’t think anyone has caught the connection yet,” you replied.

“Which is?” Dean asked.

“The victims are mostly men. A few women have disappeared as well. They were all from different areas in northern Indiana. But they all disappeared from the same highway.”

Dean still didn’t get what you meant, so he nodded for you to continue. 

“The police have been focusing on the families, the towns the people are from--they haven’t realized that they all disappeared from that highway. Probably wasn’t enough for them to make a connection.”

“But it sure as hell is enough for a hunter to make a connection,” Dean added. 

“So what’re you thinking? Vetalas?” Sam asked.

You nodded. “For sure. The fact that they’ve all disappeared from a highway reminded me of the other Vetala case you guys did. Maybe this one is using truck stops, too. Also, the fact that most of the disappearances have been men...they were probably lured by them looking like beautiful women.”

“And the women that were taken?” Dean asked.

“I searched their names on social media. The ones that put their sexual orientation on their pages were attracted to other women.”

“Nice,” Dean said. He wasn’t sure why he said that. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “You realize that most of them are probably dead,” you said sternly. 

That’s why he did it. He wanted to get a rise out of you.

“So? It’s still hot,” he replied. 

“You are such an idiot,” you said, shaking your head with a little chuckle. It wasn’t much, but Dean would take it.


	9. Chapter 9

Now - You

 

You were getting ready to go on the hunt and packing a bag in your room. You picked up your journal from your nightstand and accidentally dropped it. When you picked it up, you saw that a small wallet-sized picture had fallen out. 

You picked it up and sat on your bed to look at it. You smiled, remembering that night.    
  


\-----

 

Then - You

 

You put the finishing touches on your hair--something you didn’t normally have to worry about. In fact, you had not had to worry about anything girly until that night.

It was the night of your senior prom. You knew it was probably cliche and stupid, but you didn’t care. You were going. 

You had saved up hustling money from playing pool to buy a dress. It was a very popular style then: long, thick and silky fabric going down to your toes; a straight neckline; and intricate beading flowing in a swirling pattern down the navy-colored gown.

You had curled your hair in tight ringlets and pulled it up, leaving you with bouncy ponytail. You had actually put on makeup, and with the help of some  _ Seventeen  _ magazines you had bought, it actually looked pretty good. 

The school you had been going to was fairly new to you. John had moved you and the boys only a few months ago for the millionth time. You almost didn’t go to the prom. You didn’t have a date and you wouldn’t have known anyone.

But, you knew you wouldn’t have another chance to go to a prom. So, you asked Sam.

The fifteen-year-old got a goofy grin on his face and said that he would of course escort you to the prom. For being two years younger he was still much taller than you, so it at least didn’t look like your kid brother was taking you to prom. 

You stepped out of the small bathroom, ready to find Sam and head to the prom. 

 

Then - Dean

 

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Dean’s breath caught in his throat. 

You looked beautiful. You looked so...girly. It was weird and awesome at the same time.

Dean had stayed with his dad after he dropped out of school. He had gotten his GED. He just wanted to have something to his name, even if he was a drop-out. 

You and Sam had stayed in school thus far, though, and you were on track to graduate this year. 

Dean was shocked when you told him that you were going to prom. Not only because you had only been at that school for a few months, but also because it was so...un-you. 

You walked up to him and he smiled, broken from his thoughts. 

“You...you look, eh hem...great, Y/N.” His voice squeaked like he was still a thirteen-year-old. 

You looked down at your dress, picking off some invisible lint. “Heh...thanks, Deany.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, anyway, I’m not sure where Sammy is. I think he went to take a nap a little bit ago. I’ll go see.”

Dean walked over to the bedroom of the motel room and opened the door. He immediately covered his nose.    


“Oh, God, dude, what happened in here?” he asked.

Sam sat up from the bed, looking like death. There was a bucket next to him, and Dean saw where the smell came from.

“I think I have the flu,” Sam said weakly. 

“Clearly,” Dean replied. 

“I don’t think I can go tonight.” 

_ Shit. _ Dean thought of you standing in the main room all dressed up, and he did not want to be the one to tell you that you didn’t have a date. 

Dean hung his head, defeated. Sam had already fallen back asleep. He walked to the closet and did what he had to do.

  
  


Then - You

 

It had been a few minutes since Dean had gone to get Sam, and you weren’t sure what was taking so long. 

Another minute passed and the door to the bedroom opened slowly. Out walked the last thing you had expected to see.

Dean was wearing one of John’s fed suits. He was  _ wearing _ it, too. He looked so handsome. 

“W-Where’s Sam?” you asked, confused.

“He’s sick,” Dean said, walking over to you with the wrist corsage you had Sam pick up.

“But you hate this kind of stuff!” you said.

“Yeah, I do. But I like you. Besides, you can think of this as a date upgrade,” he said with a wink. 

You couldn’t help but smile. He had saved your prom, and you knew that he would rather do anything than go to a school dance. 

Though you were sure that was the truth, it didn’t show. The two of you had a great time. You danced, drank punch, and even took the classic posed picture every prom couple gets. The two of you, of course, had made faces at each other at the last second before the flash.    
  


Now - You

 

You smiled again. Even though Dean could be a huge dope, there were little moments that reminded you that he was actually a big softie. He would do anything for the people he loves, and that just makes you love him more. 

The memory didn’t take away from your hurt over the way he had treated you in the last years. If anything, it made you miss those days when he trusted you like you were one of the family--when he would do anything for you.

You put the picture back in your journal and pack it in your bag. At least you could go do something you knew Dean would trust you with: hunt.


	10. Chapter 10

Now - You

The three of you had decided to start where the last disappearance was. You searched there, Dean ready to be “lured” by a Vetala if need be, but didn’t find anything. So, the three of you got in the Impala and headed toward the next-nearest truck stop.

When you got there, you got a booth in the diner and sat, ordering dinner in case a Vetala was watching.

“Ugh, this is so annoying. It could be any of the women who have been flirting with you two goons,” you said, rubbing your temples. You were used to the boys getting hit on whenever you were with them, but when you were actually wanting it to happen, it was downright stupid.

“Eh, you’re just jealous,” Dean said with a wink.

You flipped him off quickly before your waitress came back to check on you.

“How was everything, darlin?” She asked, only looking at Dean. While this was actually fairly normal for when you go out, she was certainly only paying attention to Dean. Usually Sam would get some attention, too.

“It was fantastic, Betsy,” he replied, reading her name tag and shooting her a wink.

“We’ll take the check now, thanks,” you said a little bitterly.

Her eyes snapped to yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Sure thing,” she said, her voice ice even though she kept a smile on her face.

When she returned with the check she also slipped Dean a little note, and you knew you had found the Vetala. She asked him to meet her after her shift behind the restaurant.

The boys decided to go get the tools you would need ready and you sat at the bar of the diner, drinking some coffee while you waited.

“Must be a bummer traveling with two men you’re clearly not involved with like that,” a voice said next to you.

You turned and saw a rather attractive man sitting on the stool next to you. He motioned to the old waitress behind the bar for a coffee before turning to smile at you. When he did, his cheeks had little dimples and you had to pry your eyes away from them so he wouldn’t think you were weird.

“Nah, they’re my friends,” you said, turning back to your coffee.

“Yeah, well, I saw that waitress hitting on them. The way you rolled your eyes told me it happens a lot.”

You huffed out a short chuckle. “Yeah, it does.”

“Well, I’m sure you get guys hitting on you all the time, too. So I’m sure they’ve had a taste of their own medicine,” he replied.

You turned to look at him, fully knowing he was hitting on you. You decided to go along with it since you had some time to kill anyway.

“Not as much as you might think,” you said with a wink.

“Really? A beautiful girl like you?”

“Maybe it has something to do with the two six-foot-something guys I travel around with,” you said, joking.

“So was I right to say that you aren’t in a relationship with either of them?” He asked, leaning in a bit.

“You were. I’ve just known them forever. We’re friends,” you said. Your heart sank a little at the thought of calling either one of them just ‘friends.’ Sam was like a brother to you and Dean...well you weren’t sure where you stood with Dean.

“Well your ‘friends’ left you here all alone,” he said.

“They’re just taking care of some business,” you said. “Plus, I’m a big girl. I know how to be alone,” you whispered, leaning in.

“I’m glad,” he replied. “I wouldn’t have had the courage to talk to you if you were still with them.” He smiled. “I’m Jacob.”

“Y/N,” you said, shaking his outstretched hand.

It wasn’t until later when you were tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse that you realized what a mistake getting to know Jacob was.


	11. Chapter 11

Now - Dean

 

“Well where the fuck could she be?” Dean yelled at his brother. He felt a little bad at the look on Sam’s face. He knew it wasn’t his fault you were missing and he was obviously upset as well.

“I don’t know. But I’m starting to think we’re dealing with more than one Vetala again,” Sam said, opening the passenger door of the Impala. They were going to start searching around the small town for wherever you could have been taken. 

“Yeah, ditto,” Dean said, sliding behind the wheel. “Okay, so the first one flirts with me as a diversion. Once we’re separated from Y/N, the other takes her?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I think that sounds possible,” Sam replied.

“Okay. Last time they took us to an empty space where they could take their time feeding on us. So we need to find any abandoned spaces in this town,” Dean said, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel as he peeled out of the diner parking lot. 

“Already on it,” Sam said, typing furiously into his phone.

“I just hope Y/N’s stubbornness doesn’t get in the way on this one,” Dean said under his breath. Vetalas took their time with their meals, but if you pissed this one off...it might end it quicker than they could find you.

"Hey,” Sam said softly. “She might have a sharp tongue, but she’s smart. We’ll find her.”

Dean didn’t respond, keeping his head down and pushing the gas pedal harder.   
  


Then - You

 

You slammed the door to your apartment in Ryan’s face. You were furious. The man you had dated for a year had cheated on you.

You roughly wiped tears away from your face and tried your hardest to keep them from coming. You wanted to be mad, not sad.

 

You wanted to be mad that you had fallen for a guy that would play you.

You wanted to be mad that you hadn’t noticed the signs for six months.

You wanted to be mad that you told him that you loved him—something that didn’t come easily for you—and that he said it back even though he clearly didn’t know the meaning of the word.

 

Instead, you sat on your couch and let the tears fall. 

Before you could really think, you dialed Dean’s number. Sam was at Stanford, and you didn’t want to interrupt the normal life he had finally found.

“Y/N?” You heard on the other end. You felt relief at the sound of his voice. 

“C-Can you come over?” You said, your voice cracking.

“On my way,” he said. It was followed by a click, and you knew he had hung up. You laid on the couch in a ball and continued to cry. It was a vicious cycle: you would cry, then be mad that you were crying, so you would cry harder.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you saw a pair of green eyes in front of your face. Dean had a key—not that you were even sure you had locked the door. He crouched down, gently rubbing your back and trying to get you to tell him what happened.

You mumbled something between sobs and Dean apparently got the gist.

“I’m gonna kill that motherfu—“ he began, clenching his fists and standing up.

You stopped him, tugging on one hand. “C-Can you just s-stay with me for a while?” You managed to ask. 

Dean’s face softened, and he pulled you forward so he could sit behind you. You curled into his chest and continued to cry. Your tears soaked his shirt but he just stroked your hair, letting you get it all out. 

After a while you fell asleep. Before you did you figured Dean would just leave whenever you calmed down. Hours later, though, you woke to find his arms still wrapped around you, Dean himself snoring softly.   
  


Now - You

 

When you came to you half expected to find yourself in Dean’s arms like you were after that night you had just dreamed about. Instead, you found yourself tied to a hard chair in a damp and dark warehouse.

Your head pounded, and you tried to remember how you got there.

_ Jacob. _

The guy had talked to you for a while at the diner, and you remember starting to feel woozy. He drugged you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, annoyed that you didn’t figure it out sooner. He was a Vetala.

“Ah, she lives,” you heard from behind you. Jacob came into view and your eyes immediately narrowed.

“Wow, you really had me going, there,” you said. 

“Had you going? It wasn’t all a game, honey. You  _ are _ beautiful.” He paused, crouching down so you were face to face. “I’d just rather eat you than date you.”

“Can’t believe I fell for it. So you’re the Vetala that’s been killing all those people.”

“Well, my sister and I work together. She usually brings the food in as luring men is such an easy thing to do. But every now and then I like a challenge,” he said, standing up again.

“Well you couldn’t have chosen a worse target. My tall friends and I? We’re hunters. They’re going to find me,” you spat at him.

“Doubtful. Now stop talking so I can eat.” He came close and his eyes turned snake-like as he plunged his fangs into your neck. After a few moments, you felt the blood loss and fell into unconsciousness.


	12. Chapter 12

Then - Dean

 

_ How did I let this happen? _

Dean ran as fast as he could toward the sound of your screams. His mind was one-track of insults at himself for not being better--for not keeping you safe.

The three of you had been hunting together since after John had died. It felt like they were constantly just trying to save the world--and in this case, they were. Lucifer was risen, and he wanted to fight Michael so he could rule. 

All of that was on the back burner of his mind, though, because you were in danger. Sam was out cold, and Dean had left him in the Impala after dragging him away from the demon that had knocked him out. Dean had killed it, of course.

You, however, had been taken by Meg. She was using you as bait, and Dean knew that. She had hoped it would draw Sam in so they could capture him and use him as Lucifer’s meat suit. 

Had he been conscious, it would have worked. 

Dean got closer and closer to your screams and turned into an alley to see you tied to a dumpster, Meg drawing deep lines in your skin with a knife. 

“I was hoping for Sam, but I suppose killing Michael’s meat suit is good, too.”

Your head hung and you heaved breaths from the pain you were in. Dean was seeing red.

“Let her go. Now.”

She stood up from her spot next to you and stalked slowly toward him. “Dean, Dean, Dean. You need to just get with the program already.” She smiled. “Lucifer is here to stay, and the sooner you and your brother get that through your thick skulls, the sooner it will all be over.”

“Listen, bitch,” he said, holding his demon knife at the ready. “I don’t give a shit what you, Lucifer, or those winged dicks say. We are not playing in this little game.”

Meg’s eyes flicked black. “Fine. Let’s do it the hard way.”

She lunged at him, but Dean was fast. He moved out of the way and she ran into the wall on the other side. He pushed up against her, knife to her throat. Before he could plunge it in, she smoked out of her meat suit. He let the dead body drop to the ground and ran over to you.

There was blood everywhere. Dean wasn’t sure what to do. He took off his jacket, but didn’t even know where to put pressure to stop the bleeding. He looked at your face and your eyes were sort of rolling back like you would lose consciousness at any moment. 

“Y/N. Y/N!” You focused on him for a moment.

“Dean, you need to get out of here. There are more,” you said. He shook his head. There was no way in hell he was leaving you. Instead he scooped you up in his arms and started running. He wasn’t sure where he would even go. You weren’t going to make it to a hospital. 

_ I can’t lose her. _

Suddenly, Castiel was in front of him and he stopped in his tracks.

“Cas, please,” he said, unable to form any more words.

Without a word, Cas placed two fingers on your forehead. You were out cold, and Dean was afraid it was too late. He watched in amazement, though, as the cuts that were visible disappeared, leaving just dried blood behind. 

He had never felt more relieved in his entire life.   
  


Now - Dean

 

Dean had never wanted to feel like this again. He knew it was fairly likely it could happen again because of hunting, but he hoped it wouldn’t, nonetheless. 

When he and Sam figured out where you were, Dean drove as fast as he could. He just hoped he wasn’t too late. 

They entered the warehouse, knives at the ready. They kept on high alert, but they didn’t see the Vetalas. What he did see made his heart feel like it would jump out of his chest. 

You were tied to a chair in the middle of the room, your head slumped over and blood dripping from your neck. Dean ran to you, not caring if there could be danger around. He trusted Sam to back him up. 

“Y/N? Come on, sweetheart, wake up!”

You didn’t move. Dean felt your neck for a pulse and felt a weak and thready one there. 

“Sam, we gotta get her out of here!” 

“I know, but we can’t just leave without killing the Vetalas!” Sam said, conflicted. 

Dean started cutting the ropes holding you to the chair. When you were free your body slumped over and Dean had to grab you so you wouldn’t fall to the floor. 

“Get her to the hospital. I’ll call someone for backup,” Sam said when he took in how bad you were. 

Dean was already halfway to the door with your limp body. 

He placed you in the passenger seat of the impala and ran to the other side. As he was peeling out, you started to come to. 

“Dean?” You asked weakly. 

“”Shh, Y/N, you’re okay,” he said, stroking your hair. “Just try to stay awake for me, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes closed. Dean’s eyes darted from the road to you, just trying to make sure you stayed awake. Whenever your head would start to loll he would tap your face and say your name. 

“I’m sorry, Deany,” you said quietly. 

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” Dean asked, almost with a chuckle. How could you possibly be sorry for this?

“Lots of things...but this too. I was stupid…”

“Y/N, there’s no way you could have known. We shouldn’t have left you alone,” Dean said sternly. 

“This is why you didn’t want me around...I’m a burden. I’m sorry, Deany…” you started to drift off again.

“Hey, hey,” Dean said, tapping your face. “You are not a burden, Runt. Don’t say that.” You were awake, but just barely. Luckily Dean was pulling up to the hospital. 

You lost consciousness again just as Dean passed you off to a doctor, making up some excuse about being attacked by an animal. He watched helplessly as they took you through the double doors of the ER, leaving him alone in the waiting room.


	13. Chapter 13

Now - You

 

The first thing you felt was your head pounding.

You tried to move and every inch felt agonizing. You opened your eyes and saw that you were in a hospital bed, then it all came back to you. 

“Ugh,” you said aloud.

You felt movement beside you, and saw Dean sitting next to your bed, where he had just sat up. 

“Hey, Runt,” he said, smiling. 

“Ugh,” you repeated. 

“You’re gonna be fine, you just lost a lot of blood. Scared me there for a second.”

You blinked at him, wanting to speak but your mouth was really dry. He noticed and brought a cup to your mouth so you could drink from a straw. After a few swallows he pulled it back and you could finally say actual words.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you said, laying your head back and looking at the ceiling.

“Why?” Dean asked, confused.

“I’m not an idiot, Dean. But I definitely acted like one.” 

“What are you talking about? You didn’t know he was a Vetala!” he exclaimed.

“I know. But I should have had my guard up. I wasn’t acting like a hunter.”

“Y/N…”

“No, Dean. I just liked the attention. Look where it got me,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“What do you mean you liked the attention?” he asked.

“From a guy! I’m constantly watching you and Sam get hit on by girls, and I just...got fed up. So when he showed me attention, I just went with it.”

Dean looked bewildered by what you were saying. 

“I know, it’s stupid!” you said at his look.

“No, Y/N...it’s just...do you really think guys don’t pay attention to you?” he asked.

You just looked at him with an eyebrow cocked.

“Y/N…” he sighed. “Being around you is like being with a model,” he said with a chuckle. 

Your face screwed up in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe you never noticed...guys may stay away from you when Sam and I are around, but that doesn’t stop them from staring.”

You lightly shoved his arm. “Come on.”

“I’m serious! Just ask Sam. If he and I weren’t around, you’d have to beat them away with a stick.”

You thought for a moment, and realized he was right. Guys did stare at you. You just more often noticed girls staring at Dean.

“You...you’re beautiful, Y/N,” he said, looking at the ground. 

Your heart sped up when he said that and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, did you guys get him?” you asked, changing the subject.

Dean looked up. “I just talked to Sam. He called in a favor from a hunter buddy near here and they got both the vetalas. So, case closed.”

“Thank God. I think I’d like to just forget about this whole hunt,” you said.

Dean’s face dropped. “I’m probably not gonna forget it anytime soon.”

“Why?” you asked when you saw his face.

“Because, Y/N...we almost lost you. And that’s not the first time that has happened.”

You were about to apologize and Dean saw it, so he shushed you.

“No, don’t blame yourself. What we do is a team effort. And Y/N, I hated when I thought we were gonna lose you. And on top of that, I know you’re pissed at me. I couldn’t have lived with myself if you had--if anything happened to you and you thought I was a jerk or something.” He put his head down again.   
“Well, you  _ are  _ a jerk…” you said with a smirk. He glared up at you before smirking as well. Your problems were far from fixed, but you at least knew that you were important to Dean, and that was enough for now.


	14. Chapter 14

Then - You

You woke with a start, your brow covered in sweat. You had been having the same nightmare for months.

You watched Dean get beat within an inch of his life. You watched Sam take control of Lucifer. You watched him throw himself into the cage.

Then you felt the same despair as if it were happening all over again.

 

You knew you shouldn’t do it. You knew he had moved on—that he was living a happy life now. But you couldn’t help it. You needed to talk to him.

It rang only once before he picked up.

“Y/N?” He asked sleepily.

“Hi, Dean,” you replied abashedly.

You heard some rustling and knew he was getting out of bed to talk to you. He probably didn’t want to wake Lisa.

“What’s going on?” He asked after a moment.

“Do you still dream about him?” You asked abruptly. You were still laying in your bed, the phone between your ear and the mattress.

“Every night,” he said with a sigh.

“Me too.”

“Are they all bad?” He asked.

“Yes. Aren’t yours?” You asked, curious.

“No. Sometimes they don’t make any sense. And sometimes they’re memories.” You could hear the clinking sound of Dean pouring himself a drink.

“Memories?”

“Yeah. Like the other night, I dreamt about the time the three of us went to the drive-in and saw The Blair Witch Project.”

“God, what a waste of money,” you said with a short laugh.

“Yeah. I mean, you would think we would have known to stay away from horror movies by then. So inaccurate,” he said with a chuckle of his own.

“Remember how much candy Sam ate that night? He got so sick halfway through the movie,” you said.

“Yeah, well, served him right for hogging the milk duds all night,” he replied. You smiled, and a silence that soon turned sad fell over both of you.

“So, how’re Lisa and Ben?” You asked, changing the subject.

He paused before answering. “They’re good. I’m just trying to keep them out of all the hunting stuff, you know?”

“Have you been hunting?” You asked, suddenly worried he wasn’t really out.

“No, no, I haven’t been. I guess I’m just...paranoid a lot.”

“Yeah, well, when you know what’s out there…” you said.

“Yeah. So, how’ve _you_ been?” He asked. You weren’t sure how to answer that. Between getting little to no sleep every night and missing Sam and Dean every waking moment, you had been barely getting by.

“I’m...surviving.”

He was silent for a moment, as if trying to figure out what that meant.

“Want me to stay on until you fall asleep?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation. You got comfortable in the bed again, feeling better now that you had the sounds of Dean drinking and humming next to you. You chatted for a little bit longer before you drifted off to sleep, where you didn’t have any more nightmares.

  
Now - You

A week had gone by and you were feeling much better. You had gone back to the bunker with the boys, and they had made you rest for much longer than you felt was needed.

You got out of bed and padded down to the kitchen to get some coffee. When you got there, you saw that Sam and Dean were already awake.

You held up a hand as soon as they saw you. “If you say one word about me ‘needing more rest’ I swear I will attack you both.”

“Okay, point taken,” Sam said, looking back down at his laptop. Dean just furrowed his brow and turned back to the stove where he was making breakfast.

You watched as his hips swiveled while he tossed the eggs in the pan. You couldn’t help yourself; he had a nice ass.

“Y/N?” Sam asked.

“Huh?” You responded, turning to him. He had a small and knowing smile on his face.

“I said we found another case,” he said.

“Awesome, when do we leave?” You asked, sitting across from him with your cup of coffee.

“Um, we?” Dean said, turning to face you.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Yes, _we._ I’m back to one-hundred percent. There’s no way I’m staying behind.”

“Y/N, that’s stupid. You were just in the hospital for Christ’s sake!” He said angrily.

“Yeah, a week ago,” you said, challenging him. You stood to face him. “I’m fine, and I’m an adult. You can’t make me stay here.”

Dean’s eyes darted between yours while he decided if he would keep arguing or not.

“Ugh,” he said, throwing his hands up and turning back to the stove. You smiled in victory and sat back down.

“Has he ever won an argument against you?” Sam asked with a smirk.

“I have a perfect record,” you replied with a smile.

Dean made another disgruntled sound from his place at the stove and you laughed, knowing he couldn’t argue with the facts.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Now - Dean

Dean couldn’t believe he let you win that argument. The last thing he wanted to do was let you walk back into another hunt and risk getting hurt again. 

He shook off the thought. He felt like he was getting into dangerous territory. He had been thinking about you a lot lately, and it was a little concerning to him. He would be lying if he said that he didn't care about you. He had for as long as he could remember. But, he was worried that what he felt went beyond the way you felt about him. He was pretty sure you saw him as a friend or a brother, and deep down he knew that wasn’t how he felt about you. It was more. 

He had spent so much time trying to protect you that he was afraid he had really only pushed you away. It was obvious from how pissed you were at him for ignoring you the last few years.

But what was he supposed to do? Twice now he had almost lost you. Both times could have been avoided if you would have just stayed back. 

“Dean?”

Dean snapped back to reality, realizing he had been zoning while he drove. “What?” He asked.

“I asked if you want to stop and eat.” Sam said. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s eat,” he said, pulling into a fast food joint. He saw Sam staring at him out of the corner of his eye but ignored it. 

“So, what do we know so far?” You asked as you took a big bite of your burger. Sam lifted an eyebrow at your eating habits but began explaining the case.

“It looks like demons,” he said. He had his laptop open and was scrolling through as he spoke. “People disappearing only to be seen again doing horrible things.”

“Like what?” Dean asked.

“Typical run-of-the-mill demon things. Torturing, stealing, killing.”

“Any mention of black eyes?” you asked.

“Bingo,” Sam said, pointing at you. “At least three witnesses have said the same thing about seeing black eyes.”

“Let’s do it,” Dean said, throwing his napkin on his plate. He watched and chuckled when you picked up your burger and stuffed the rest in your mouth as Sam put money on the table to cover the bill. 

—-

You 

“Well isn’t this just a fine kettle of fish?” Dean said. 

“What does that even mean?” you asked, rattling the thick metal door again. It didn’t budge, and you knew you were screwed. 

“I don’t know, it’s a saying!” he exclaimed. He was frantically searching around the small room for any escape. Sam lay on the floor, unconscious. 

The demons had numbers, and that had put you at a disadvantage. It was a trap, and now they were going to kill you. 

The three of you had sniffed around the town for a few days, questioning victims and such. Apparently word got out that you and the Winchesters were there, and the demons took action. 

Once they lured you to the empty warehouse, they found a way to trap you in a room with concrete walls and a heavy metal door that couldn’t be kicked in. 

Sam had been the first to get to the room and was knocked out by a hiding demon. When you and Dean got there, it ran out and closed the door, leaving the three of you trapped with a ticking bomb in a locked box. You could see the countdown, but couldn’t do anything to try to diffuse it. 

That was why you and Dean were searching for a way out. You knew deep down, though, that there was no escape. You had prayed to Cas, but there was no guarantee that he could even hear you. 

You dropped your arms from the door, defeated. The bomb had only two minutes left. 

“What’re you doing? Keep looking!” Dean yelled. 

“Dean. It’s over,” you said, walking toward him. 

“No, we can find a way out!”

“Dean,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. He stopped moving, turning to you. He cast a glance at his still unconscious brother before looking at you. 

Emotion swelled in you. There was sadness for all the things you never did. Fear of dying. And love for the man standing in front of you. 

Seconds ticked by as the two of you stared at each other, both unwilling to say goodbye. 

“Dean, I—“ you began. You were cut off by his lips smashing themselves to yours. You felt a tear escape your eye as you returned the kiss, opening your lips to let his warm tongue in. 

Everything in your lives had led to this moment. You both let out all the pain and sadness and held-back feelings through the kiss. Your fingers tangled in his short hair and he gripped your neck with one hand and your hip with the other. 

You pulled apart, looking into each other’s eyes. 

“Y/N, I lo—“

Before he could finish, everything went black. 

——-

Then - Dean

“Ha! Sorry,” you said in a sing-song voice. 

“Ugh,” Dean replied, moving his piece back to the start. The two of you and Sammy were doing something you rarely got to do: playing a board game. 

Sometimes, the motels John brought you to had games you could check out at the front desk. It was the only time Dean had remembered doing something that really made him feel like a normal kid. 

“Haha, Dean, you suck at this,” Sam added, making fun of him. 

“It’s all chance, Sammy!” he yelled. 

“Don’t be a sore loser, Dean,” you said with a smirk. 

Dean puffed out his fourteen-year-old chest. “Fine, let's have a shooting contest and see who wins then!”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop being a butthead. You know you’d win that.”

“Exactly,” he said with a smirk.

“Just forget—“ you were cut off by a loud bang coming from outside the motel room door.

The three of you stood and faced the door, each of you with suspicion on your faces. It was silent for a moment before there was a bang at the door again. Someone was trying to get in.

“Get in the back, go!” Dean yelled, pushing you and Sam towards the bathroom. He dove under the bed and grabbed a duffle bag. He unzipped it and pulled out a shotgun, cocking it and aiming it at the door.

“Y/N, get in the bathroom!” he yelled at you. You looked behind you and realized that Sam had already gone in there, following his brother’s orders. 

“No,” you said firmly. The door continued to bang, whoever or whatever it was trying to get in.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? Do as I say!” he yelled, glancing at you and back at the door.

You ignored him, rushing to the bag and getting out a silver machete. “We don’t know what it is! I’ve got the silver, you’ve got the salt. We’re covered!”

Dean groaned loudly but didn’t argue with you. “Get ready,” he said as the door groaned against the force of whoever was pushing on it.

It swung open and there stood an older man with salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes zeroed in on you, and he licked his lips. 

Dean shot him with rock salt, but it didn’t phase him. You had to think fast to figure out what this man was. 

Before Dean could stop you, you lunged at the man with the knife and slashed his arm. The skin sizzled and hissed as it began bleeding. Since it wasn’t bearing any fangs, you were pretty sure you knew what it was.

“Y/N, get back!” Dean yelled. The shifter had retaliated and swiftly punched you in the stomach while you were distracted. You recoiled, hunching over. Dean shot at the shifter again, distracting him at the very least. This gave you a chance to recover. You stood up quickly and stabbed it in the heart with the silver knife. 

It fell to the ground, dead. Dean rushed over to you, supporting you as you hunched over again from being punched in the gut. 

“Are you crazy?” he asked, taking you over to the couch.

“Heh, at least it’s dead,” you said, still trying to catch your breath.

Just then John came rushing through the door. 

“Are you kids okay? Where’s Sammy?” he demanded. Sam came out from the bathroom, a little shaken. 

“We’re fine,” Dean said, sitting down next to you.

“That one got away from me and found you," he said, pointing to the body. "What happened?” 

“Y/N killed that shifter,” Dean said proudly. John smiled at you, the most praise you would likely receive.   


“And where were you?” he asked, turning to Dean.

“I had the shotgun!” he exclaimed. John gave him a disappointed look and Dean sagged a little. No one said much after that, and you were a little frustrated that John always put so much pressure on Dean to be a perfect hunter. 

After you’d recovered and caught your breath you turned to Dean. 

“Wanna have a shooting contest?” you asked with a small smile. Dean’s face lit up a little, and though he clearly knew you were just trying to cheer him up, he got up.

“You’re on.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smuuuuuuuuut

Dean

Dean opened his eyes, finding that he wasn’t blown to smithereens. He was still holding your hands in his, and your eyes were shut tight. 

“Hey,” he said, squeezing your fingers. You opened your eyes and quickly looked around. 

“Cas?” you asked, letting go of Dean’s fingers. Dean followed your gaze and found that Cas was standing a few feet away in the bunker’s library, touching his fingers to an unconscious Sam to wake him.

“Sammy? You okay?” Dean asked as he watched his brother come to.

“Y-Yeah...what happened?” Sam asked, standing up from the ground.

“I heard your prayers,” Cas said, turning to you. 

“Thanks, Cas. We were almost toast, there,” you replied with a nervous chuckle. Dean looked at you and quickly looked away when your glance shifted to him.

“It’s no problem. I have to go.” With that, Castiel was gone. 

“Yeah, bye,” Dean said sarcastically.

“Uh, I need a drink,” Sam said, rubbing his head and walking toward the kitchen. When the two of you were alone, your eyes met. Neither of you knew what to say, and the air grew thick with tension. 

“Um, I’m gonna go—“

“Yeah, me too,” Dean cut you off and you both headed in different directions. It was clear that neither of you knew what to think of what you had shared when you thought you were going to die. 

In some ways, that kiss was what he had been waiting for since the moment he met you. He knew it was true, and he knew what he had been about to say before Cas zapped them back to the bunker. 

He loved you. He always had. 

Dean sat on his bed before laying back, scrubbing a hand over his face. With how uncomfortable you had been when you opened your eyes, Dean wasn’t sure if you had even enjoyed the kiss. You had kissed him back, sure, but that could have been “I’m about to die” adrenaline.

“So what happened?” 

Dean jumped when his brother’s voice came from his doorway.

“What?” he asked, playing dumb.

“What happened after I passed out?” Sam asked again. He was looking at Dean suspiciously, probably because of how jumpy he was. 

“Uh, nothing. We looked for a way out, figured we were screwed, then Cas showed up.”

“Right. Then why are you and Y/N acting so weird?” he asked. 

“Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean replied, feigning confidence. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, I’m not an idio-“

“I almost told Y/N that I love her,” Dean blurted out. He didn’t know why. He just couldn’t keep it to himself. He was too freaked out. 

Sam’s eyes widened. “You what?” 

“Yeah, I started to say it and Cas zapped is out of there.”

Sam walked further into the room, closing the door. “Well you were about to die, right? Was it just the adrenaline talking?” he asked, sitting down on the bed. 

“We also kissed,” he replied. 

Sam shook his head as if to clear it. 

“I know,” Dean said in response. 

“Listen, man, I’d be lying if I said I was surprised. The two of you have been dancing around each other most of our lives,” Sam said. “It’s obvious you have feelings for her. You should just lay it all out.”

Dean got up, pacing his room. “Well what if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruined everything?”

Sam half-smiled. “I don’t think you guys can go back now anyway.”

Dean knew he was right. Even if he wanted too, he knew how he felt. He had tasted your lips for the first time as an adult. There was no going back. 

  
  


You

You lightly touched your fingers to your lips. You could still feel the tingle that remained from the kiss with Dean. 

You smiled to yourself. You were both awkward when you find out you hadn’t died, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was what you were feeling.

There were too many times that your life was almost cut short. Too many opportunities wasted. Too many days spent loving Dean and doing nothing about it.

Not anymore.

You got up from your bed and rushed to your door, pulling it open and stopping short when you saw the green-eyed man in front of you, fist raised as if to knock. 

Neither of you said a word. His lips were on yours in an instant and he pushed you back into the room, his foot kicking the door closed behind him. He turned you around quickly and lifted you, never breaking the kiss, until your back was against the door and your legs wrapped around his waist. 

There was desperation in both of you; the kiss was hot and passionate and your tongues danced together. You broke apart, both panting as he kissed his way down your neck. He shoved your arms up, ripping your shirt over your head. He continued kissing your skin down your chest and to the swell of your breasts. 

You moaned aloud, and you could already feel wetness pooling between your legs. You let go of your grip around his waist and let your feet hit the floor. You pushed him backward toward the bed, and Dean removed his shirt as he went. 

He fell back and you climbed on top of him after removing your pants. You straddled him, your wet panties rubbing against his jean-clad erection. He hissed, his hands gripping your waist. You dragged your fingernails down his chest, taking in the muscles you’d seen a million times before, but never in this context.

You undid his belt buckle and slid his jeans off of him, his erection straining against his boxers. You palmed it over the fabric and he gasped, his hips bucking a little. 

Dean grabbed your hand to still it before flipping you over so you were on your back and he positioned himself over you. He reached beneath you and deftly unclasped your bra, throwing it off to the side. Before you could even react to the cool air hitting your breasts his mouth was on them, sucking each nipple into his lips and between his teeth. You threw your head back at the sensation. 

“Dean,” you moaned, ready to feel him inside you. He knew exactly what you needed and hooked his fingers in your panties, pulling them down off your legs. He stood for a moment and removed his own underwear, his cock springing free. 

You let your legs fall open, leaving yourself bare before him. His eyes hungrily took you in. 

“So perfect,” he said. He crawled back up until his hips were aligned with yours. He put the tip into your opening, and you grasped his shoulders, preparing for his length to fill you.

He slowly inched his way in, and you felt the delicious stretch you knew would come. You both moaned at the sensation and he started to move. You brought your hips up to meet him, helping to quicken his pace.

You locked eyes, and you knew what you were both feeling was so incredibly raw and real. You wanted to close your eyes from the pleasure but you couldn’t look away.

You reached between you and rubbed your clit, making your toes start to tingle. 

“Dean,” you panted to warn him. 

“I know, baby,” he said back. He was close, too. You continued to rub until your orgasm hit you with intense force, your walls squeezing around him. He watched you fall apart and that was all it took before he was spilling himself inside you.

You both laid back, breathing hard and covered in a sheen of sweat. You looked at each other, smiles growing on your faces. 

“I love you, Y/N. I always have,” he said when your breathing slowed. 

Your heart sped back up, your smile growing even wider. “I love you, too, Dean. I have for much longer than I should have gone without saying.”

He gave a long kiss to your forehead and you snuggled in next to him. You fell asleep that way, both of you happier than you had ever been.


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry I am finishing this so late. Got the ending up on tumblr and forgot to put it here!

Then - You

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if we grew up to not be hunters?”

“Hmm,” you replied, thinking about his question. You were only sixteen. You had just gotten your license. It was hard for you to think about growing up at all. You just wanted to be young. 

“I dunno. Don’t you like hunting?” you asked.

Dean turned his head toward you, little drops of dew coating his hair. The two of you laid in a grassy field, looking up at the stars. It was your first trip driving John’s car after getting your license, and Dean wanted to be there to see it. 

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, I love killing evil shit.” He turned his eyes skyward again. “I just hafta wonder if there’s a reason so many of those schmucks grow up and get a normal job and get married and have kids.”

You smiled a little to yourself thinking of Dean Winchester with graying temples and kids hopping all over him.

“Maybe it’s just cause they don’t know what’s out there.”

“Maybe. I’d probably be a crappy husband anyway,” he replied.

“Oh, please, I can just picture it: you bringing home the bacon for some wide-eyed little lady at home…I could see that for you. Not for me, though.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I could never be some housewife that just  _ lives _ to clean and cook and make her husband happy. I want...well...I want  _ adventure. _ ”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I could totally see you as a wife.” he said. You scoffed at him. “But, you know, you don’t ever have to be that kind of wife if you don’t want to be. You’re a badass. And any man who is good enough to marry you will know that.”

You blushed a little, thankful for the cover of darkness to hide it from Dean. The truth was, you  _ could  _ see yourself as a wife.

And when you were really honest, you could see spending the rest of your life with Dean Winchester right beside you.


End file.
